


Day In, Day Out

by TonyPie17



Series: Happy Little Family (Save Me, Please) [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Dark!Bilbo, Gen, Helpless!Thorin, Inspired by Outlast, Kidnapping, M/M, Psycho!Bilbo, Swearing, Toxic Relationship, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyPie17/pseuds/TonyPie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin thinks about his new 'life' and Bilbo brings home a present that's sure to make Thorin feel more at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day In, Day Out

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look! I wrote another one! Goodness.

Thorin was beginning to recognize a cycle.

Every day, when the sun had risen to about eight o’clock in the sky, Bilbo would come in and wake him up with breakfast. Either spoon feeding him cereal or giving him chunks of fruit. If Thorin reacted negatively, Bilbo got “upset” (which was quite the understatement honestly) and punished him―Thorin hoped it wouldn’t get any worse than the gashes and bruises.

After breakfast, Bilbo gave him a light sedative to keep Thorin docile and placid. The less lucid the larger man was the easier it was for Bilbo to do what he wanted with him. Bilbo would take Thorin into a sewing room after issuing the sedative and use him as a living mannequin.

“I have to hand tailor your tux, love, since you can’t go see a tailor,” Bilbo had sighed when Thorin hadn’t asked.

After that, Bilbo would take him into the bathroom and they would shower. Bilbo, knowing Thorin couldn’t get away if he tried, let Thorin bathe alone―for now. He had seen the way Bilbo had admired his body the first time Thorin had been left to shower, and it was only a matter of time before Bilbo decided to join him.

When they were both clean, Bilbo led Thorin into the kitchen for lunch. He allowed Thorin to eat by himself but he kept a close eye on the taller man, a knife always close by.

“What colours do you think we should have for the wedding? Something earthy, perhaps?” Bilbo looked up at him through his lashes, and Thorin wished that they were here under different circumstances.

But if he didn’t answer Bilbo, Bilbo would get angry.

“What―Whatever you prefer, dearest,” Thorin tried to smile, but he was sure it was more of a grimace.

Bilbo didn’t like that. He found that out when his head snapped to the side, cheek blossoming in pain and he was sure a nasty red handprint. He didn’t retaliate; the drugs and that knife didn’t allow him to. Bilbo was smaller, and he was quicker, and he would not hesitate in hurting Thorin. He had before.

“I know it’s hard to wrap your mind around marriage. But you really, _really_ need to make an effort, love,” Bilbo growled, and then his smile was back as he leaned in and rubbed Thorin’s cheek, as if it would help the sting.

“Honestly. I don’t want our wedding to be a disaster. Do you?” Bilbo’s eyes looked so _innocent_ , so _lovely_. Thorin didn’t understand how they could mask a psychopath.

“No, dear,” Thorin replied automatically.

“Good. Now, I’ll need to take you back into the bedroom. I have a lovely surprise for you. You’ll love it, I’m sure!” Bilbo pulled Thorin out of his seat and led him back upstairs to to the bedroom. He was tied down to the bed, Thorin unable to fight back.

Bilbo leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. He leaned back and practically giggled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The response had become automatic. Thorin wasn’t sure how many _daysweeksmonths_ he’d spent in Bilbo’s care. Every day he reminded himself of how _badly_ he needed to get out, but it was near impossible to get pass Bilbo.

Thorin didn’t even feel the pinprick of the needle as it was pushed into his neck; the plunger pushed down and Thorin’s eyelids followed.

“Sleep well, my dear husband-to-be.”

Thorin hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Fili’s party.

[][][][][]

“Thorin! Thorin, love, wake up!”

Thorin groaned and tried to turn away, but the feel of a hand around his throat had him jerking away. Bilbo had only choked him once, when Thorin had broken a mug in an attempt to use it to escape. He’d hoped that the ceramic shards could be used as a weapon. Bilbo hadn’t allowed it.

“You miserable _prick_ ,” Bilbo had hissed, and his fingers had wrapped around Thorin’s throat hard enough that Thorin’s air was immediately cut off.

“Do you think I would let you go so easily? I’ve marked you as **_mine_**. And I will punish you if need be.” Bilbo’s fingers had tightened further, and Thorin could feel black creeping at the edges of his vision. He reached a hand up to try to pry Bilbo’s off. Bilbo’s grip tightened.

“ _Do not tempt me, Thorin._ ” Just as Thorin thought he would pass out from the lack of oxygen, Bilbo had let go, and turned away from him, angered.

“Clean this mess up. I’ve more important things to worry about right now than a selfish fiancee.” And then he’d stormed off, leaving Thorin to try to regain his breath and clean up the mess he’d made.

Now, though. Now he only smiled as he untied Thorin and helped him up from the bed.

“Remember I said I had a surprise?” Bilbo said as he led Thorin away.

“Yes, dear,” Thorin answered, trying to make sure he did indeed remember.

“Well, I wanted to help you feel more at home, since I didn’t allow you to bring any of your old belongings or anything,” Bilbo rambled, and Thorin listened as he was led downstairs, and then further down to the basement. They were directly in front of the door when Thorin’s heart started to pound, terrified to find out just what could be waiting for him behind that door he had once sat behind.

“Ta da!” Bilbo flourished as he threw the door open.

Thorin’s blood ran cold immediately.

Both of his nephews sat in two chairs, wide eyed and covered in bruises and blood, more likely their own since Bilbo’s only apparent injury was to the knuckles of his left hand―which had been expertly bandaged up.

“Remember when I said your nephews would love it here? I meant it of course; they’ve been _such_ good boys so far,” Bilbo continued. “They did give me a bit of trouble in the beginning, but nothing a little discipline from their Uncle can’t handle.”

Thorin couldn’t fathom what Bilbo was insinuating with that phrase. The smaller man pulled Thorin further into the basement and then closed the door behind him. He walked over to his nephews and gently removed the gags covering their mouths.

“Alright, boys. Be good, okay? You wouldn’t want to upset your new Uncle,” Bilbo walked back over to Thorin and wrapped an arm around him, placing a hand on his chest. Thorin didn’t move.

“Uncle! Uncle please, help us!” Kili shouted, tears clearly glistening in his eyes.

“You must make him stop, Uncle, please! He’s a mad man!” Fili added on. Bilbo frowned, and Thorin worried about what that could mean for his nephews.

“Oh, no, no, no, this won’t do!” Bilbo looked up at Thorin, smiling sweetly. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but discipline them a little, won’t you?”

Thorin looked down at Bilbo, disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

Bilbo frowned again. That was two. Thorin had been counting. The more Bilbo frowned the more pain they would end up in. “ _Discipline_ them, dear. You don’t want them treating their new Uncle in such a way, do you?”

“No, dear,” there was that automatic reply again. Bilbo’s smile returned and he waited expectantly as Thorin walked over to his two nephews, who looked up at him with surprise and even fear in their eyes. Thorin was not a small man after all, and whatever he did would cause some major damage.

“You have to respect your Uncle, boys,” Thorin said, voice robotic almost. “He’s kind enough to allow us to live with him, and care for us. We’ll be married soon, and you must learn to appreciate him.”

Bilbo’s smile grew into a grin almost, dark and twisted and sadistic. Thorin knew what he wanted to see. He rose his arm and backhanded both of them, first one and then the other. The ring Bilbo forced him to wear scored them both.

“Don’t be too hard on them, love, they are just children after all,” Bilbo placed a hand on Thorin’s bicep and squeezed a bit, and Thorin didn’t raise his arm again. He was glad for it.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and have dinner? I cooked for you,” Bilbo stood on the tips of his toes to kiss Thorin’s jaw.

“I’ll take it from here,” he whispered.

Thorin didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave his nephews at the mercy of a complete and utter _psycho_ but he had no choice. Bilbo brooked no arguments, and he sent Thorin upstairs alone, a smile that was supposed to be reassuring (but most definitely wasn't) on his face.

He wretched when he got upstairs. The screaming had made him lose the appetite he never had.

**Author's Note:**

> There's definitely more to come. I love the idea of Eddie Gluskin!Bilbo and Sort of Waylon!Thorin. It just gets me going real good.


End file.
